Punishment for Lucas
by Jellico
Summary: Stand-alone sequel to "Accepting a Brother", takes place several months later. Lucas gets in trouble with both Dan and Nathan when they discover he's been putting his health at serious risk.
1. Chapter 1 - Discovery

Never before had Dan's jaw ached so much from trying to keep his temper in check.

He sat stiffly in his private office at the dealership and glared at the phone on his desk, concerned far less with the feelings of the woman he'd just hung up on than on the things she had told him.

 _"...Hello, this is Georgette from the Walgreens Pharmacy on Market Sreet..."_

 _"...courtesy call regarding Metroprolol on your account for a minor named Lucas Scott..."_

 _"...prescription not filled in several months now..."_

 _"...wondering if perhaps his file should be closed...?"_

For over a minute Dan was simply too angry to move. Lucas – his son, his _underage_ son with a genetic heart defect that could lead to sudden cardiac arrest – was no longer taking his medication. The pills that were keeping his hypertrophic cardiomyopathy under control and his teenaged rump alive were no longer being swallowed; hell, they were no longer even being picked up.

 _What the devil was Lucas thinking?_

 _Did he want to die young?_

Dan didn't know, but he sure as hell was going to find out.

He cut his eyes toward the clock on his computer, which was showing 5:23 PM. At breakfast that morning, he had told his boys to go ahead and eat without him tonight since he needed to work late, but that plan was clearly shot. He needed to go the pharmacy on Market Street – right now – and pick up his son's prescription. After that, he needed to go straight home and present them to his idiot firstborn, and if Lucas _still_ refused to take his pills, well, Dan had no qualms about holding him down and force-feeding him if that's what it took.

And God help them both if things descended to that.

With his jaw pulsing non-stop, Dan stood up from his desk and began to get ready to leave. As he shoved several papers into his briefcase then reached over to shut down his computer, he knew one thing and one thing only: if the older of his two sons was shooting hoops when he got home, or if Lucas was doing _anything_ physically strenuous that could jeopardize his weak heart, that boy was damn well going to sleep on his stomach tonight!


	2. Chapter 2 - Confrontation

The moment Lucas sank the winning shot for the fourth time in a row, he turned to his flabbergasted brother on their basketball court at home. "Game, loser. That's eighty bucks you owe me."

Nathan cocked an eyebrow at the basket, then at Lucas, then at the basket again in utter disbelief. Finally, he shook his head. "Okay, that's it. I need to eat."

"And how do you think that's gonna help?" Lucas teased. He gave Nathan a shove then abruptly did a reverse pull-back and sank another rock. "I told you I'd kick your ass today, didn't I? Every game of Twenty-one that we play this afternoon you're gonna lose."

Nathan shoved him back half-heartedly. "Dude, it's not skill; it's luck. You're lucky I've been too hungry to play properly, but just wait, Big Brother, wait until supper's over. After that it'll be you, me, tonight, here."

"Round Two, huh?"

"Hell yeah, Round Two. There ain't no way your scrawny butt can kick my ass all day _and_ all night. It's just not frickin' possible. You're supposed to have HCM!"

Disgusted with himself, Nathan pulled his T-shirt over his head and used it to mop the sweat off his face while Lucas turned from him in triumph and began practicing his three-pointers. Shot after shot, he sank one air-ball after another, his form completely without fault no matter where he stood on the court. It was the kind of perfection just begging to be interrupted by a younger brother who'd be losing for the last two hours, so Nathan was all set to charge over and knock him off his stride when Dan pulled up in the driveway, then startled both sons with a bellow so loud Nathan was positive it could be heard all the way over in Charlotte.

 **"** _ **LUCAS EUGENE SCOTT!**_ **"**

On the verge of shooting another basket, the son in question froze and so, too, did Nathan for a moment as he watched Dan slam his car door then stalk over to them.

What was bugging him?

Dan didn't say. He brushed past Nathan rudely and marched directly over Lucas, where he boxed the basketball straight out of his son's hands. It flew onto the pool house roof, rolled down the opposite side and landed who-knew-where, but Dan never turned to look. He jabbed an arm to the right.

"Get inside the house!"

Nathan opened his mouth to demand why, but Dan turned to him next and snapped at him as well.

"You too!"

The boys exchanged a look at the way Dan was barking at them, but they didn't get a chance to say anything. Without warning, Dan snagged Lucas by his left bicep, then swatted him hard toward the side door.

"I said move it!"

"Ow!" Lucas clapped both hands to the seat of his track pants and turned on his father furiously. "What the hell?!"

 _"GET INSIDE!"_

Before Lucas could take a step, Nathan shouldered his way in protectively. "Stop it, Dad! What's your problem?"

Dan's reaction was just as swift, and in seconds, Nathan knew exactly how his brother felt. He yelped and reached back to rub his own scalded behind, giving Dan exactly the opening he needed to re-focus his anger on the only son he was truly pissed at. The man thrust Nathan aside, grabbed Lucas and shoved the teenager toward the house.

 _"INSIDE, LUCAS!_ _ **NOW**_ _!"_

Lucas got going. He didn't dare do otherwise with his backside stinging as fiercely as it was and his dad clearly angry enough to make it sting worse than this. But he didn't have to like it either. He glanced at Nathan sympathetically then shot Dan a baleful look, but he did as he was told without another word of protest. He scowled with every step, both hands holding his bottom cheeks protectively as Nathan followed his lead also sulking and holding his rear end.

With Dan literally breathing down both his sons' necks, the trio of Scotts entered the mansion. Neither Lucas nor Nathan knew exactly where Dan wanted them at first, but they found out quick where Lucas was supposed to be at least when his arm was jerked, and he was propelled into the kitchen over to the sink then pushed against the counter.

"Don't move!"

Lucas didn't, and in the doorway, Nathan stopped as well. Annoyed and puzzled in equal measures, they watched Dan wrench open the refrigerator door, and snatch up a bottle of water, then practically throw it at his firstborn son before he reached into his jacket pocket and yanked out a small pharmacy bag.

The second Lucas saw it, the spit in his mouth dried up.

He knew that bag because he'd been avoiding it for well over two months. He'd refused to go pick it up, he'd refused to even _think_ about picking it up, and if anyone had told him this moment would be the outcome, he still would have avoided collecting that hateful item. Of course, now that his rear end was aching and he was face-to-face with a very irate father, second thoughts were the only kind of thoughts in his head.

With a seriously pounding heart, Lucas stared at the pharmacy name on the paper sack mere inches away from him, and then allowed his worried gaze to travel upwards to meet his father's. The moment his eyes met Dan's, he gulped.

He knew exactly why he was in trouble now and there was only one question that remained.

 _Just how much trouble was he in?_

Dan refused to tell him. He removed the lifesaving medication from the bag in his hand, then popped the cap and shook out a green and yellow pill, which he immediately thrust in Luke's face. "Swallow it, son. _Now."_

With Nathan watching everything from the doorway in a state of irritated confusion, Lucas was tempted to lie and say he's already taken his meds that afternoon, but the tingling in his backside and the expression on Dan's face told him he'd better not try it. He accepted the pill, took a swig from his water bottle and then did as his dad demanded, not the least bit surprised when Dan barked at him next to "Open up!" Blushing fiercely, Lucas obeyed. He lifted his tongue and moved it left and right without waiting for Dan to tell him to, and then he studied his father warily as Dan took a step back.

 _Now what?_

Lucas promptly found out. Whisked away from the counter in one swift movement, his hips had no choice but to jerk forward as three more red-hot slaps burned his backside.

"Owww! Da-ad!"

"Get upstairs," Dan ordered. He squeezed his son's arm painfully a moment then pushed him away. "You go to your room and you wait for me, understand?"

This was too much for Nathan. Forgetting self-preservation, he came forward and confronted Dan a second time, fully prepared to get slapped again himself if that's what it took to get some answers.

"What's the matter with you, Dad? Luke hasn't done anything!"

Dan poked a stern finger first at one son then the other. "Nathan, butt out. Lucas, you better be gone before I take another step, you hear me?"

Lucas heard him. Red-faced, he hurried past Nathan and ran upstairs, refusing to make eye contact with his brother as he went. Nathan looked after him a moment then turned back to Dan.

"What the hell, Dad? You're being a dick for no rea—"

"And you don't know what the hell you're talking about, son, so just shut up and get to the table. We're having supper."

"Screw that, I'm not eating with you. I'm going up to Luke!"

"Oh no, you're not!"


	3. Chapter 3 - Supper

The moment Nathan took a step after his brother, he found himself yanked right back and shoved toward the counter. He darted to the left, fully intending to make another break toward the hallway, but Dan Scott hadn't coached him all these years for nothing. Anticipating his moves perfectly, Dan caught him before he could escape, then turned him to the side and slapped his bottom much harder than he had outside.

 _"Cut it out, Dad! Let go!"_

As Nathan struggled to free himself so he could go after Lucas, Dan held on tight and smacked him again then kept right on going.

 _"Oww!"_

"Your brother's in punishment and that means no visitors, including you."

 _"Stop it!"_

"You want more of what Lucas is going to get later?"

 _"No! OWW!"_

"Then quit fighting me, go wash your hands and get to the table, son. Now!"

 _"Okay, Dad! All right!"_

Dan gripped Nathan's forearm tighter and gave his son a Look before he let him go. Like his brother before him, Nathan glared at his father while he tried in vain to rub the sting from his glutes, his fury more than evident at being swatted like a little kid. It took a firm shove towards the sink for Nathan to let go of his basketball shorts long enough to wash his hands, but then he stubbornly refused to set the table while Dan warmed up some leftover pasta. Another whack to the ass convinced Nathan to change his mind, but only because an impatient Dan took a spatula to his behind that time that actually brought tears to his eyes and forced a howl from his lips.

If Dan felt bad about it, he certainly didn't let it show.

He escorted his resentful son the cutlery drawer and warned him one last time to get the table ready, and then he hovered beside him – spatula still in hand – until Nathan obeyed. As soon as the mats were in place, forks and napkins were laid out, and drinks were poured, Dan plunked Nathan's bottom down on the closest stool with a stern order to start eating. After that, he got busy serving himself.

Nathan had been starving five minutes ago, but not for a second did he want to eat under these conditions. The burn in his rear end told him he'd better, though, if he knew what was good for him. Thanks to the half-dozen whacks he'd just received, he remembered all too well what Dan Scott was capable of, how skilled he was in wielding a belt, if he had to, like he'd done to Nathan several months back for putting Lucas in the hospital.

With these humiliating memories in mind, Nathan ate.

He stabbed the chicken penne on his plate then shoved it in his mouth and chewed it viciously, deliberately not looking anywhere close to Dan Scott. When he had finished his pasta, he attacked his salad next, and after that, he gulped half his glass of milk then set it down. Now that supper was over, he was determined to go see his brother, but the second he wiped his mouth and stood up, Dan was on his case.

"Sit down. You didn't ask to be excused."

" _Fine_. _May I be excused?"_

"No. Finish your milk."

Tempted to take his glass and toss its cold contents straight into his father's face, Nathan restrained the impulse only after he spotted the spatula clearly within reach of Dan's right hand. He snatched up his milk, downed in quickly, and then banged his empty glass on the table.

 _"I'm finished. Can I go now?"_

"Put your dishes in the sink."

The seventeen-year-old did, then immediately headed for the hallway. No way was he going to ask a third time if he could be excused, but it didn't matter anyway, since his father reached out and took hold of his arm the moment he started to walk past.

 _"_ Nathan _."_

" _What_?"

"Your brother's room is off-limits, understand?"

Nathan shot Dan a baleful look then wrenched his arm free. "Yes, _sir_."

In the hall, Nathan picked up the pace, and the stairs he took two at a time. Luke's door was shut, but Nathan didn't let that stop him and he didn't bother to knock to announce his presence. He simply barged in and closed the door behind him.

"Dude, what the hell is going on between you and Dad?"


	4. Chapter 4 - Truth

Chewing on a thumbnail by the window, Lucas looked over at him briefly then went back to frowning at the trees outside. "Do I look like I know?" he lied. "What did Dad tell you downstairs?"

"Oh, he was real talkative," Nathan said in disgust. "He told me to shut up, sit my ass down and finish my milk, so are you gonna tell me what's up or not? And don't tell me it's nothing, because I'm telling you right now I don't buy it. Whatever you did you're still in big trouble for it."

Lucas glanced over again, trying to seem unconcerned and failing miserably. "Big trouble like how? Like grounded for a few weeks?"

"No, like Dad's gonna kick your butt six times over."

"Kick my butt as in—?"

"As in I'd stuff a cushion down my pants and sit down while I still could. He's gonna take a belt to you, Luke. I saw it in his eyes and you _know_ I have experience with that."

Lucas forced himself to chuckle. "Yeah, right. Dad's not _that_ mad—"

"Are you kidding me, Luke? He totally flipped out downstairs! Have you forgotten how hard he smacked you in the kitchen?!"

"No, but he's not gonna belt me, Nate. He just … he wouldn't."

"You mean he never _did_ before," Nathan retorted, "but that's gonna change tonight. Trust me."

Luke's smile faded for good then because that wasn't at all what he wanted to hear. Alone in his bedroom for the last fifteen minutes, he'd convinced himself that this was the extent of his punishment: a handful of humiliating slaps to the butt followed by no supper and banishment upstairs for the remainder of the night. He hadn't allowed himself to consider that those two penalties were only the start, that more punishment was yet to come. And he definitely hadn't allowed himself to believe that he was in for a belting like Nathan had received months before. It wasn't supposed to be his turn to feel Dan Scott's wrath across his behind, not yet, not over his HCM of all things. It just ... wasn't!

As Nathan raised his eyebrows at him, reminding him that he was still awaiting an explanation for why the hell their dad was so pissed, Lucas couldn't bring himself to provide one. All he could think about now was the licking he was going to get and the missteps he'd taken that had led to this situation. Nauseated, he looked over at his brother, pleading with him to help somehow.

"This can't happen to me, Nate. I'm nowhere near ready."

"Well, ready or not, it's gonna happen, Luke."

"No." Lucas took a decisive step back and shook his head. "No way. It can't. I'm too old to get punished like that, and I'm not even his son like you've always been."

"Lucas—"

"I'm serious, Nate! We're not close enough yet for him to spank me with a frickin' belt!"

Nathan stared at his brother in open disbelief, waiting for Lucas to correct himself, but when nothing happened, he marched out of the room without a word, going straight down the hall and into the master bedroom. On the dresser were several framed snapshots of Dan Scott with his sons, a few with both boys at once but the majority featuring Dan with either Nathan or Lucas alone. Nathan bypassed the ones with him and his dad and snatched up the most recent photograph taken of Dan with his firstborn son. Back in Luke's room, Nathan tossed it onto the bed facing his brother.

"You and Dad aren't close enough?" he repeated. "That's bull and you know it. Take a look."

Unable to help himself, Lucas allowed his eyes to drift down to the picture on his mattress. He recognized it immediately. It was a still taken from a video shot three weeks prior by Shari Smith when her family, theirs and a few others linked to the Ravens had met up in Hanover Park for a picnic and a friendly game of touch-football. In the photo, Lucas was triumphant. He had just leapt onto his father's back after scoring the winning touchdown for their team and his right fist was raised high in victory, his left arm hugging Dan's neck. Below him, Dan was supporting his weight with ease, and he was just as jubilant as his son, his pride in Lucas plain to see as he looked up at him over his right shoulder. The photo on Luke's bed was only one capturing a very specific moment in time, but there were lots of Dan-Lucas/father-son moments now gracing the various bookshelves, family albums and dresser tops in the Scott mansion, at least two dozen, perhaps three. Each one was a testament to how Dan's relationship had changed with the son he had initially abandoned for sixteen years, how entrenched their kinship had finally become. After a year of living under the same roof, there were virtually no traces anymore of the cutting, neglectful father Dan had been, or of the guarded, suspicious son Lucas had been either, not in this photograph inches away, nor in any of the others decorating the house.

Lucas winced as he studied the picture before him and conceded by his silence that Nathan was right. He _was_ close to their dad now. It would be an out-and-out lie to insist on anything different, which meant he had to take a spanking if that's what their dad decided he deserved. He couldn't fall back on past history to get out of punishment. Twelve months ago, Dan Scott had no credibility as a father, but he did now and all three of them knew it.

 _Shit._

By the doorway, Nathan was just as thoughtful as his brother. He watched the conflicted and shifting expressions on Luke's face for a minute longer, but then he went over to lay a sympathetic hand on Luke's shoulder.

"Come on, Big Brother. It can't be that bad, can it? Just tell me what you did to make Dad so mad."

"It's nothing, Nate." Lucas forced himself to shrug as he continued to stare at the picture. "I didn't do anyth—"

"Don't give me that," Nathan broke in. "I tried to defend you downstairs, and for my trouble, Dad slapped _my_ ass, and then told me to shut up and eat."

"I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry, Lucas. I want you to tell me what you did."

"But I didn't do anyth—"

"And that's crap, so stop it. You're the good little boy around here, so for Dad to flip out like this, you had to have done something and it had to have been huge. What was it? What did you do?"

When Lucas still wouldn't confess and could only stand where he was looking guilty, Nathan sighed then draped an arm around his shoulders. "Look ... if you just tell me what you did, maybe we can lie and blame it on someone else."

"We can't do that, man, so just forget it. Let it go."

"Let it go? I'm in here risking my butt for you, Lucas, so you better give me something. Dad's already warned me twice to keep away from you. You want me to get in trouble for being in your room?"

"Of course n—"

"Well, then help me out here and hurry up before I start getting pissed off too. Just tell me what I need to know, so we can practice your apology or invent a lie that'll calm Dad down when he finally gets up here. I mean it, Luke. Quit stalling. What did you do that you knew you weren't supposed to?"

Lucas eased away to go sit on his bed. He didn't want to field Nathan's question because he knew Nate wasn't going to like the answer. At the same time ... Nathan had become a hell of a good brother, so he deserved to know the unvarnished truth. He deserved it, but he really wasn't going to like it.

Lucas took a deep breath and then stared at his shoes, forcing himself to tell it.

"Maybe ... maybe Dad's pissed because he saw me playing ball with you ... and he was worried about my HCM."

Nathan frowned at him like he wasn't making sense. "Your HCM? Why would Dad be ticked off about that? It's not dangerous for you to play so long as you're taking your meds, right...?" When Lucas said nothing and allowed his reddening face to speak for him, Nathan felt his own face begin to color but this time with anger. "You haven't been taking your meds, have you? That's why Dad forced you to the second he got home."

"Nate—"

 _"Am I right?"_

Lucas nodded once then looked up at him, searching for understanding. "They were ruining my game, Nate."

The punch to the face that followed took both brothers by surprise, but not for a second did Nathan regret it afterward. He watched Lucas sit back up in clear pain and felt no shame whatsoever. "You're a jackass, you know that, Lucas? Those meds are saving your stupid life. You could've collapsed out there on the court with me, and I wouldn't've known what the hell was wrong with you. There's no way I would've thought it was your HCM because I _thought_ you were taking your freaking pills every day!"

"I know," Lucas said, bringing a hand to his throbbing cheek. "I just—"

"You just what? Figured a heart attack was worth the risk? Figured I wouldn't miss you once you're gone since we haven't been a family for very long? What exactly did you figure, you jackhole?" When Lucas could only look at him miserably, Nathan turned from him and headed for the hallway. "You know what, Luke? You're on your own. You deserve the butt-busting Dad's gonna give you, and I am _not_ gonna feel sorry for you."

Nathan left. He slammed the door behind him, then stalked to his own room next door and slammed that door too. Left behind alone on his bed, Lucas stared after him a moment then cursed softly under his breath and rubbed his throbbing cheek.

Now he really didn't want to face his dad.


	5. Chapter 5 - Punishment

In the kitchen, Dad didn't want to face his firstborn son either ... but he also knew that as a father he had no choice. There was no question that Lucas had screwed up big enough to get punished, so punishment had to come, and it had to come down hard from him. Hard like Royal Scott would have come down on Keith. Hard like Dan himself had come down on Nathan months ago when he had strapped his son's bare bottom with a belt. A grounding for Lucas wasn't going to cut it for something as serious as this and neither was a simple lecture or a loss of privileges. Lucas had to feel major pain so he understood three things without question: (1) that rolling the dice on his life was never acceptable, (2) that it would never be tolerated, and (3) that it would always, _always_ lead to negative consequences.

Refusing to think of Karen and how furious she was likely to be once she learned he had hit their son, Dan finished eating, then dumped his dishes in the sink alongside Nathan's and stared at them, his mind jumping ahead ten minutes from now.

 _How was he going to do this?_

Lucas deserved a whipping just as Nathan had received in July, but Dan felt hesitant at going so far. It was one thing to strap the son he had raised since birth, but it was another thing entirely to do the same to Lucas, whom he'd only really begun to raise this last year. Nathan was no stranger to physical pain. Dan had pushed him hard his entire life in order to ensure he excelled at basketball, and he'd spanked him more than once as a young boy to instill a sense of discipline. If truth be told, Dan had done more than just spank Nathan sometimes, but had Karen or Keith ever spanked Lucas? Dan didn't know but he didn't think so. _He_ certainly never had, so it was out of the question for him to strike Lucas with leather the very first time he was punished physically. And it wasn't just leather that was a problem. Wood and plastic implements were also off the table, which meant no paddles or hairbrushes or spatulas could be used on him either, nothing at all that was harder than a human hand. Lucas would have to be spanked by the palm of Dan's hand – and only by the palm of his hand – even though his crime cried out for an implement more befitting his age.

Decision made, Dan took a single step away from the sink then paused, thinking now about how Lucas was likely to react and what this might do to their father-son relationship. For countless minutes, Dan stood in place and looked out the window, seeing nothing except his own worries, until an image of Royal came to mind, reminding him to take action. Thinking of the hard man who'd raised him got his own butt twitching, of course, so Dan ordered himself to quit wasting time and just do what needed to be done. He wasn't a friend; he was a father. More than that, he was a father and a disciplinarian to two sons now, not just one, and it was high time he acted like it. He left and went upstairs. Outside Luke's bedroom door, he hesitated for only a few seconds more before he barged in, then shut the door firmly behind his back.

Still brooding on the bed and rubbing the punched area on his cheek, Lucas stood up immediately and turned to face him. Self-reproach and nervousness were written all over his teenaged face, sure signs if any were needed that he knew he'd done wrong and deserved to be in trouble, and this was exactly the expression Dan needed to see. He met his son's anxious gaze with one of anger and determination, then removed from his jacket pocket the prescription he'd picked up some ninety minutes before.

"Look familiar?" he demanded. "Because I don't know why it should since you haven't taken a single pill in two whole months."

"Dad—"

"I can't believe you, Lucas. Whatever happened to, 'I don't wanna die any time soon, so I need you to keep funding the bill?' Because I _did_ fund the bill and what did that get me? An idiot son who'd rather croak dribbling a stupid basketball, and drive _me_ into an early grave, instead of taking his damn medication like he knows he's supposed to!"

To Lucas, this was exactly the type of guilt-tripping lecture that Karen or Keith might have delivered if either one of them was here, and Luke was surprised to discover that it had the same impact on him coming from Dan. He flushed under the onslaught and struggled to make eye contact with his father while he tried to explain himself.

"Look … Dad … those pills ... they slow me down when I'm play—"

"So what?! That's how they keep you alive, son!"

"I know, it's just ... I just wanted to make you proud. I mean you obviously love the game—"

"More than you?! For God's sakes, Lucas, you think I'd—" Abruptly, Dan stopped. He looked away and pulled himself together with effort before he focused once more on the teenager before him. "I am not that man anymore, son. I thought you knew that by now. I will _never_ put my love of basketball above you again."

Lucas stared at him and said nothing at first, but finally, he gave a small nod.

"Okay, Dad. I'm sorry."

Dan's face could only be described as grim as he suddenly turned back to the door, then dragged the closest night-table in front of it. Now that he knew why Lucas had acted as thoughtlessly as he had, Dan suspected he was being unfair by going ahead with punishment, but he was still far too angry to care. His firstborn son had been risking his life over a game, just like Nathan had done last year using speed to try and break his own father's scoring record. This had to stop and it was going to. Starting now.

By the bed, Lucas watched Dan block the only exit to the room and he reached back instinctively to cover his bottom, taking several automatic steps in retreat until he bumped into the wall by the window. He had a sick feeling about what was coming up next. He could only hope he was wrong.

"Dad?" He swallowed hard as he felt his palms grow sticky with sweat. "Dad, what're you doing? I said I'm sorry."

"Not as sorry as you're going to be," Dan said. He sat on the edge of the bed, making his intentions extremely clear. "Get over here, son."

Lucas did the opposite and sidled along the wall until he was in the farthest corner of the room next to his bookcase. He shook his head. "Please, Dad, don't. You don't have to do—"

"Save it, Lucas. Until you're the parent of a son who'd rather suffer cardiac arrest than survive to old age, you don't get to tell me what I have to do versus what I don't. You and your brother take basketball way too seriously. I know that's my fault to a certain extent, but I'm determined to fix that, today more than ever. Now get over here and drop your pants; you're getting this bare."

"But I told you I won't do it again!"

Dan pinned him with a look. "And I'm telling you that as your father I'm going to make sure of it. Now get over here and put yourself over my lap. _Lucas!_ "

It was several awkward seconds before Lucas could obey. At first, he would only stand there stubbornly and shake his head, but when Dan refused to cave and no other avenues of escape presented themselves, Lucas finally accepted his fate and gradually came forward. He clutched the seat of his track pants tighter and dragged his feet over with betrayal and tragedy stamped across his face, but if Dan cared – and he did – he refused to show it.

He pulled Lucas the rest of way once his boy was within reach, and then he bared him below the waist with a quick yank of his pants and underwear. Lucas tried to stop him but he was too slow; before he could put up any kind of effective resistance, his penis was exposed and his bottom was bare, and a second after that, he was tipped forward and splayed across his father's lap ready for punishment.

Dan wasted no time at all once Lucas was in place over his knees. He trapped his son's legs between his own to limit Luke's kicking as well as his ability to stand, and then he applied the palm of his hand over and over to the fleshiest parts of the teenager's bottom.

The reaction was immediate.

Lucas yelped, bucked and tried to get up, his right hand flying back automatically to try and protect the hot spots Dan was creating. As soon as Lucas heard himself, however, he bit his lower lip and grew rigid. He was acutely aware of how much his father prized strength and scorned weakness in others, so he tried desperately to keep silent and stop moving, to stifle his natural reactions lest his dad accuse him of flailing like a toddler and crying like one too.

He couldn't keep it up though.

Ninety seconds into his punishment and he was yelling again with every slap; by the halfway mark, his feet were drumming the floor in agony and his chin was trembling fiercely. Soon after that, his vision was completely blurred. The ah's and ow's morphed into a stuttered string of please's and sorry's, but the difference this made was clearly non-existent.

Dan wasn't fooled. He supposed Lucas _was_ sorry at this point, but sorry for what was anyone's guess. Was he sorry for being selfish? Or only sorry for getting caught?

Since Dan suspected Lucas was only sorry for the latter, he continued to give his son exactly what he believed he'd earned, landing crisp smacks that burned in their accumulation and turned Luke's bottom from white to pink to a deep carnation red that rivalled the flowers in the garden outside.

Lucas struggled to keep it together, to prove that he could take a spanking with ease and that he was too old for this kind of childish discipline, but his bottom hurt, and his dad was relentless, and in the end he was still just a kid. Somehow he managed not to break down completely, but the moment his punishment was over, the very second Dan slapped his bottom for the last time then let him up, a sob escaped and that was it for the rest of Luke's self-control. He gulped repeatedly and pulled his pants up quick, but the tears that had been building for the last few minutes began to fall, and seventeen or not, Lucas couldn't seem to stop them. He turned his back to Dan and covered his streaming eyes with one arm, sobbing as discretely as possible while he rubbed his burning bottom with his other hand.

Rising beside him, Dan felt like the worst parent in all of North Carolina. First, he had abandoned his son for 95% of his life and now this; he had hit him and not just once but dozens of times, so many times, in fact, that his boy was crying. The urge to pull Lucas into a hug and tell him he would never punish him this way again was strong enough that Dan almost did it, but he held back at the last second, knowing the very worst thing he could do at this moment would be to express regret or reveal his doubts. The day Lucas had moved in, Dan had promised himself that he would be a good father from now on, and what he had just done was exactly what good fathers did he was sure. They taught their boys the hard way when needed, and they did not apologize for it or make promises they might never be able to keep. Still, it was painful to observe Lucas in such a state of abject misery, and Dan worked his jaw briefly, struggling not to comfort him while also coming up with the final words he knew he should say to ensure Lucas learned a lesson about risking his life needlessly. Finally, Dan decided he had them.

"Look at me, son." Dan waited for Lucas to turn around and had to compel him physically when the weeping teenager couldn't bring himself to do it. Lucas was obviously embarrassed, but as much as Dan sympathized, he refused to let sentiment sway him. He gripped Luke's chin, forcing his son to raise his tear-stained face. "I said look at me and listen up. If you stop taking your pills again – and I mean for _any_ reason – you'd better pray I don't find out about it, because if I do, you and I are going to be up here for a very long time, and I'm not kidding. Next time my belt's coming off and it's going to connect – and keep connecting – until I am _convinced_ there won't be a third offense, you got me, son?"

With a hitching chest, Lucas sniffed and averted his gaze. "Y-Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, s-sir."

Dan tipped his chin back up, forcing him to make eye contact. "No. Say, 'Yes, Daddy'."

"I don't w-wa—"

 _"Say it."_

Lucas sniffed again as more tears fell, his lower lip protruding. "Y-Yes, Daddy."

"Good. Now I hope for your sake that you believe me, son, because you're not going to like the alternative if you decide to test my resolve." When Lucas only ducked his head and turned away again, obviously trying hard not to cry in front of his old man, Dan decided he'd been strict long enough and pulled him into a hug. The embrace was not returned, but Dan expected that. He held on for close to a minute and murmured that all was forgiven, but then he stepped back and reached out to run a hand over Luke's buzz cut. His gaze softened. "Go clean yourself up, and then come downstairs to eat supper when you're ready," he said. "You're skinny enough as it is, so I don't want you going to bed hungry."


	6. Chapter 6 - Reflections

Lucas didn't want to go to bed hungry either, really, but no way did he plan on leaving the privacy of his room anytime soon.

The minute Dan exited his room he lay face-down in bed and hid his face from view, allowing his tears to fall unrestrained now that he was alone. With his butt throbbing the way it was, and his dad's threats still echoing in his head, he felt like a bad little boy and hated it, like he'd regressed ten years in the span of ten minutes.

It wasn't fair.

Every man's life was his own to live and Lucas Eugene Scott was very nearly a man in all the ways that counted. Okay, so maybe _technically_ he wasn't eighteen yet ... and he hadn't graduated high school ... _and_ he was still living under a parent's roof, but so what? Underage or not, he hadn't deserved punishment for taking calculated risks with his own life, and he definitely hadn't deserved an over-the-knee spanking, which was the most childish of all childish punishments. He hated his dad for giving him one and he was never, ever going to forgive him.

Or so he thought.

Slowly – very slowly – the resentment Lucas felt was supplanted by regret, and the regret by remorse, the turning point coming only when he swapped Dan's face for Keith's then reconsidered his father's actions accordingly. Given how much his uncle loved him, there was no doubt that Keith would have flipped out on him big-time once he learned that Lucas had been deliberately avoiding his heart medication. Sure, an actual spanking wasn't likely at his age ... but it also wasn't outside the realm of possibility either. Keith had definitely applied his hand to Luke's teeanged bottom more than once in the past, and each and every time he had, the reasons for it had involved safety. The last time had been a year ago and the time before that had occurred when Lucas was thirteen, but as the memory of those incidents came into sharper focus, and Lucas recognized the similarities between Keith's parenting style and that of his younger brother's, he knew he had to stop crying and feeling sorry for himself. What he needed to do instead was man up, go find his dad and apologize for his behavior like he would have to his uncle.

First though, he needed to wash his face, then go see Nathan and apologize to him too.

Lucas gave himself another few minutes to recover, then rolled out of bed with a hiss, wiped his eyes, and went down the hall to the bathroom. In there, he had specific plans to avoid his reflection, but curiosity won out after he had peed, and he couldn't help but study the blotchy face and puffy nose staring back at him, neither of which had looked this bad since Brooke's pregnancy scare in junior year.

 _If he'd been living here back then, would his dad have spanked him for that too?_

Lucas shuddered to think. He lowered his pants to mid-thigh, then lifted his shirt and looked over his shoulder at the full-length mirror. What he saw pretty much reflected how he felt, but still Lucas wanted to crawl into a hole and die. His bottom cheeks were red and handprints were still visible along the outer edges, but worst of all was the ache that lingered, the intense soreness he could still feel under the skin plus the heat that radiated from it. Put together, it was all more than enough to remind him of the bad boy he had been, and it stressed how the sons of Dan Scott are punished ... if they are bad enough. With a face almost as scarlet as his behind, Lucas pulled up his pants, then washed his hands and face quickly, and left the bathroom.

As he walked over to Nathan's bedroom, however, his footsteps slowed. It struck him suddenly that Nathan must have heard his spanking in detail since he'd been right next door the whole time. He must have heard every slap and every yelp, and when Lucas had been sobbing afterwards under his pillow, who knows? Maybe Nathan heard that too.

 _Was it possible for a guy to die of embarrassment just from a six-minute spanking?_

Lucas was starting to think so. Blushing harder than ever before, he procrastinated in the hallway outside Nathan's bedroom while he winced and rubbed his butt and wished that he just could leap-frog a month or two into the future when everything was back to normal. He couldn't though, and having to apologize while he still felt so self-conscious was obviously his just desserts for past transgressions. How he wished he could take back the way he'd reacted months ago when Nathan had confessed he'd received a belting from their dad! He definitely understood Nathan's pain and humiliation now, as well as the courage it had taken to admit something so shameful and private.

Why the hell had he teased and snickered at his brother for so long?

Cursing himself for being such an overconfident dickhead, Lucas took one last deep breath and forced himself to stop rubbing his behind. He knocked on the closed door before him, then entered without waiting for an invitation.


	7. Chapter 7 - Aftermath

"Nate?" Lucas took a step closer to the edge of the bed on which his brother was sitting and playing a video game. "Nate, I, uh, need to tell you I'm sorry."

Nathan kept playing _Call of Duty_ , his vision never wavering from the big screen TV on his wall. "I'll bet you are now that you can't sit your ass down. Hurts, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, but … we both know I deserved it." Lucas felt his hands wanting to creep back for another rub and kept them out of the way by folding his arms across his chest. "Listen. I should've taken my meds and I know that. It wasn't fair to you or Dad that I didn't, and I'm just ... I'm sorry that I put you guys through this." When Nathan only snorted his disbelief, Lucas frowned and pressed on. "Honest, Little Brother, I swear I didn't mean to be so selfish."

"Oh yes, you did," Nathan retorted, "and because of that, these are pretty much the last words I'm speaking to you for the next fourteen days."

"Wait. What?" As Nathan still refused to look at him, Lucas dropped his arms and came around to block the television set. "What the hell, Nate? Why?"

Finally, Nathan made eye contact. "'Cause that spanking you just got? That was Dad's punishment; it wasn't mine. I know you hate it when I cut you off and ignore your dumb ass, so that's your punishment from me for not giving one shit about how our family would suffer if you died. I'm giving you the silent treatment for the next two weeks."

"Aw, come on, Nate!"

"We're done here. Get out."

"Nate, don't do this!"

Nathan turned back to the TV and didn't say another word. He gave his agitated brother precisely one second to step aside, and then he calmly set down his console, stood up and shoved Lucas out of the way so he was no longer obstructing the screen. As Lucas stumbled and nearly fell, Nathan returned to his bed, sat down and went right back to playing.

"Nate, I'm sorry," Lucas pleaded. "Look, I said I'm sorry, okay? _Nathan!"_

But Nathan wouldn't relent. He jacked up the volume on his television until he couldn't hear Lucas trying to change his mind, and he only lowered it when his blond brother finally gave up and stomped out of his room in frustration.

Back in the hallway, Lucas turned to Nathan's closed door in temper and kicked it with everything he could muster. The heel of his high-top sneaker left a grey mark on the white wood that could probably be washed off easily enough, but that only increased Luke's fury. He kicked it again harder than before, then returned to his own room and slammed the door behind him. He was tempted to punt it as well as hard as he could, and then to keep on doing it until his foot ploughed through one of the panels and a ragged hole existed, but he didn't.

Instead, he collapsed against one wall and slid down to the floor in defeat, blinking fast against a whole new set of tears that were threatening to spill. He didn't know which he hated more – his HCM or being shunned by his brother now that they were mostly inseparable living under the same roof – but it didn't make a difference, did it? He couldn't do anything about either situation right now, and once that knowledge sunk in to depress him utterly, Lucas hugged his knees to his chest and put his head down, wanting his mom. Karen wasn't here though – she was halfway around the world living with Andy in New Zealand – and since Keith wasn't around anymore either, living as he was in another state, Lucas allowed his thoughts to turn to Dan, the only day-to-day parent he had left. The man had spanked him hard less than a half-hour ago, but he had also hugged him hard afterwards and told him that he was forgiven. Besides, if anyone understood Luke's feelings about his HCM and the limitations it imposed, it was the athletic parent who suffered from it himself and who chafed just as much against its restrictions.

Feeling more than ever like a lost little boy in need of comfort, Lucas picked himself off the floor and went to go find his dad.


End file.
